Darkest Sin: A Dark Mafia Romance

16. KILLIAN

We barrel through the door of a supply closet, Chiara’s gown already bunched in my hands before the door even closes behind us. I slam her against the wall, her desperate gasp like music to my ears as she reaches for the front of my pants.

The hunger in her eyes is intoxicating. She’s surprised me at every turn we’ve taken. I expected hesitance from her, fearfulness, and nerves, and instead, I’ve been rewarded with a woman whose confidence shines brighter than the sun. She is not timid like I expected; she is bold and unafraid, and with each passing day, another piece of me becomes drunk on her. Addicted.

I need to be inside of her, dominate her, to feel the way my hands grip her hips. Fuck, I need that release.

Two minutes ago, as I danced with her in front of my gossiping family, I was calm and collected, but this woman has turned me into a crazed, desperate man in the space of seconds.

Chiara frees my straining erection and squeezes her hand around me, so fucking tight I can barely breathe. “Fuck me, Killian,” she begs, pulling me impossibly closer. With her gown bunched up to her waist, I go to reach for her underwear, only to pause when I realize she’s not wearing any.

My gaze lifts to hers, my brow arching, but all she can do is smirk back at me as her eyes sparkle with her wicked intentions. She’s been waiting for this since before we left my estate, and there’s nothing that gets me harder than a patient woman.

“You planned this,” I rumble, my fingers digging into her creamy skin as she pumps her tight fist up and down my cock.

The sweetest seduction flashes in her eyes and without even trying, she’s got me right where she wants me. “No,” she whispers, her tongue rolling over her bottom lip. “I hoped for it.”

I groan, that same desperation in her, now rocking through my chest. I drop my gaze down her body, taking in her bare mound, and as my hungry stare trails just a little bit further, I notice the fading bruises on her thighs. They’re almost gone, as though this happened a while ago.

Have I been too rough with her?

Fuck. That wasn’t my intention.

I warned her that I would be rough, that I would make her scream and forget why she should fear me, but to leave marks on her body? No.

I drop to my knees before her, my lips grazing over the faded bruises. “Did I do this?” I ask, gripping her thighs as my lips move to her center and dive between her legs. My tongue works its way through her center, tasting how fucking sweet she is as my mouth closes around her clit.

Chiara’s knees buckle as she grips the back of my head, her fingers knotting into my hair. She widens her stance, giving me more access to her sweet cunt. “No,” she pants, her grip tightening in my hair as if trying to control my movements. “Not you.”

“How?” I rumble against her.

“It’s nothing,” she says, her body tensing up and only relaxing when my tongue flicks against her needy clit, making her hips jolt. “It happened while I was locked in that cage. It’s nothing you did.”

Anger seeps into my veins, pulsing through my body until it overwhelms my system, and I get back to my feet, my hand closing around her narrow throat. Chiara gasps, her eyes wide as she holds my stare. “Don’t lie to me, Angel,” I growl, tightening my hold on her throat just enough to allow her a shallow breath. “When you first arrived, I took my time to memorize every inch of your body. Those bruises were not there before.”

Her eyes dance with excitement, and I realize the tighter I squeeze, the more she likes it, even more so when she reaches down between us and curls her hand around my cock again, her thumb gently stroking over my tip. “Does it really matter?” she breathes. “It’s just a little bruise, and it’s almost gone. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather feel you slamming inside of me than having a conversation about old bruises.”

As if to bring her point home, she tightens her grip on my cock, pumping up and down, but I know exactly what she’s doing, and while that trick might work on weaker men, it won’t work on me. “No woman of mine will lie to me, Chiara.”

“Then punish me, Killian. Fuck me,” she demands, tilting her chin up with defiance. “Put us both out of our misery.”

I groan, the fire burning within me, and in a flash, my hands are on her ass, lifting her against the wall as she guides my tip to her entrance. Her legs snake around my waist, opening herself to me, and with one solid thrust, I bury my cock deep inside of her, more than ready to fuck the truth out of her.

Her warmth surrounds me, squeezing me tight as if to welcome me home, and my whole body jolts with pure satisfaction. There’s nothing better than the feeling of being deep inside this woman. It’s as though she were made just for me.

“YES!” Chiara cries out, locking her arms around my neck for stability as I ram into her again, taking her even deeper.

My fingers dig into the globes of her ass, and this time, I know for sure that I’ll leave marks there, but these are the kind of marks that we’re both happy to see lining her flawless skin.

I thrust and grind, both of us teetering on the edge of satisfaction. “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” Chiara grunts, clutching on to me with everything she’s got, panting heavily.

“Hold on to it, my little devil. You’ll come when I tell you to.”

“Oh God,” she groans, closing her eyes and tipping her head back against the wall.

I fuck her furiously, taking her hard and deep and stretching that sweet little cunt to its limits.

“Please,” she begs.

I clench my jaw, desperate for my release, but she hasn’t suffered nearly enough, and until she falls apart, I’ll continue to punish her with this devilish torture. “Are you going to lie to me, Chiara?”

“No. Never again.”

I push her further, rolling my hips and taking her at every angle. “What do you say, my Sweet Angel?”

Her grip tightens in my hair, the desperation radiating out of her. “Please, Killian. Please. Let me come,” she cries out. “I’m sorry. I’ll never lie to you again. I just . . . It wasn’t important enough to tell you. Please, let me come on your cock. I can’t hold on to it any longer.”

I thrust three more furious times, each one rubbing right up against her G-spot and stretching her wider as my cock strains for release, the prominent veins angry and desperate.

One.

Two.

Three.

“Have you learned your lesson, Angel? If you lie to me, I will punish you, and believe me when I tell you, this is only a taste of what I will do to you.”

“Yes, Killian. Please. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Good. Then come for me, Chiara. Let me feel how hard you squeeze my cock.”

She doesn’t hesitate, releasing the hold on her orgasm and allowing it to explode through her body, shattering her like glass. Her sweet little cunt violently convulses around me, so damn tight that I can’t hold on a second longer. I come with her, shooting hot spurts of cum deep inside of her, filling her with my seed.

I keep moving as she rides out the high, her head thrown back against the wall in elation as her death grip finally eases in my hair. “Holy fuck,” she pants, struggling to catch her breath, but I’m right there with her, needing to release one of my hands to brace against the wall.

“So fucking perfect, Angel,” I murmur, dropping my lips to her shoulder.

Chiara goes limp in my arms, a satisfied sigh slipping from her lips. “If that’s the punishment I get, maybe I should lie to you more often.”

I lift my head, my fiery gaze locking onto hers, finding nothing but an intrigued challenge staring back at me. “Don’t try me, Chiara,” I warn, my cock still buried deep inside of her. “You won’t enjoy the consequences.”

“I don’t know,” she teases, a playful smirk stretching across her lips and making a rush of . . . something pound in my chest. “I certainly enjoyed those consequences.”

I shake my head, unsure how to respond. Nobody challenges me like this. I don’t let them close enough to even try, and yet here she is, giving it her all, and what’s more? I fucking love it.

“Come now,” I say, pulling out of her and stepping back before helping to settle her on her feet. “If I’m gone for too long, people will come looking, and when they see you with those flushed cheeks and hard peaks of your nipples straining through your dress, they’re going to want a taste of what’s mine, but let me make this clear—I don’t intend on sharing you.”

A nervousness flashes in her eyes. “And if someone were to put their hands on me?”

“I would cut their hands off and deliver them right to your door.”

Chiara grins and inches toward me as she fixes her dress back into place, though I have no doubt she’s currently feeling the way my warm cum leaks out of her and spreads between those juicy thighs. She’ll be excusing herself to go to the bathroom in no time. She lifts her chin, her lips barely a breath away. “I don’t know whether to panic because that was the most messed-up thing you’ve said yet, or to start blushing at your misguided attempt at romance.”

Taking her chin, I capture her gaze, and she becomes still. “Understand me, Chiara, that was not a misguided attempt to sweep you off your feet. It was honest. If someone were to put their hands on you, I would end them. Nobody steals from me.”

She visibly swallows, and I wave my hand toward the door, a subtle demand to get her ass moving. She does as she’s asked, and I follow behind her before reaching around her to open the door, only as she goes to step out of the supply closet, the deep rumble of my tone stops her.

“For what it’s worth, my sweet angel. When I do decide to romance you, it won’t be a misguided attempt, and you’ll do a shitload more than just blush.”

She sucks in a gasp, her cheeks flushing under my heated stare. “Go now,” I prompt to get her moving again.

Chiara walks out before me, and as the door closes and my hand falls to her lower back, I can’t help but notice a shift in the atmosphere within the room. The dancing has stopped, replaced by the wives gossiping between themselves and glancing around the room as though searching for something . . . or someone. And there’s no doubt this is the result of my new marriage becoming public knowledge.

As I lead Chiara through the room and toward our table, those gazes land on her. Full of judgment, jealousy, and spite. Every single one of these women has shamelessly thrown themselves at me over the years in hopes of standing by my side at the head of this family, their husbands be damned.

I see the questions in their eyes, wondering why her? What’s so special about this girl who appeared out of thin air? What does she have that they don’t? And the answer to it all—everything. She is everything that they aren’t, and that’s exactly why I’m so drawn to her.

“Everyone is looking at us,” Chiara says under her breath, clearly not comfortable with the speculation.

“Let them look, Angel,” I tell her. “They’re curious and confused why after all these years I’ve finally decided to take a wife, and on top of that, they’re questioning why the usual steps weren’t taken. Any wedding of mine should have been a grand event, a show of money, and tradition, and the fact that there wasn’t is causing a stir. I’m sure you can understand that. But mostly, they’re looking at you, and to that? I say let them feast on your beauty. Their jealousy and hatred will be their undoing.”

“Jealousy?” she questions, her gaze lifting to mine. “Why would they be jealous?”

“Look at you, Angel. Look at the life that’s been thrust upon you. The luxurious lifestyle and highest level of protection. Nobody can touch you, and as long as you are standing at my side, you stand at the top with me. These women have clawed the eyes out of weaker women just to take their place. They’ve each had to fight their way to where they are, but not you. This life was handed to you without question. They have a right to be jealous, but what they do with that is up to them, and how you respond will determine the kind of strength you possess.”

Chiara cringes and glances back over her shoulder, taking in the huddle of women surrounding the bar. There’s a nervousness in her eyes, a look I’ve never seen from her before today, and I realize that she would prefer to face my wrath than a bunch of spiteful women.

“Tell me about yourself,” I say, more than ready to move this along and take her mind off the inevitable.

Chiara glances back at me, fixing a smile across her face, but I’ve come to realize it’s fake. Her true smile, now that’s where her beauty really shines. “I, umm . . . There’s not much to tell,” she says, seemingly caught off guard by my question.

We finally reach our table, and I pull her chair out before helping her sit, and the soft groan that rumbles through her lips tells me that she’s sore from the thorough fucking I just gave her in the supply closet. But she asked for it. She begged me to fuck her, and I don’t do anything halfway.

“Tell me what you feel is worth sharing,” I say as I take my seat beside her, positioning myself in the best seat in the room that gives me a vantage point of the whole ballroom and is closest to the entrance of the secret underground tunnels that lead to a safe house.

“Okay, well, I was a foster kid. I was abandoned by my mother as a baby and dumped at an orphanage without any form of identification. I grew up in the system, bouncing from house to house until I was about fifteen when I finally found a bit of stability. The family I was with wasn’t that great, but they treated me okay and were happy to let me do my own thing, as long as I kept my space clean, maintained my grades, and didn’t get myself in trouble.”

I nod, having known all of this from the information Sergiu found for me. “After that?”

She shrugs her shoulders, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Like I said, there’s really not much to tell. I graduated high school and was accepted into college, and after a few months of working my ass off, I was able to afford a little apartment of my own while also paying my tuition, and since then, that’s what my life has looked like. I work to eat and keep a roof over my head while I go to school . . . at least, I used to.”

“Used to?” I question.

“I’ve been gone from my home for at least two weeks, and I can guarantee that my landlord would have already given me an eviction notice. He’s an ass like that. As for school, I was one year from graduating when I was snatched off the side of the road, and I don’t mean this in a snarky way or anything, but I seriously doubt that you’re going to allow me the chance to finish that.”

“No, I won’t,” I agree. “You no longer require a college degree.”

Chiara nods and forces a tight smile. Disappointment flashes in her eyes, but there’s also an understanding there that gives me just a fraction of hope that we can make this work between us. “I was going to be an architect,” she tells me. “I’ve always loved it, which is why I’m so taken with your home. Whoever designed it has an incredible eye.”

“I believe so too,” I agree. “What about your personal life? Have you left anyone behind that I need to be concerned about?”

“Not really,” she says, squirming in her seat. “With how often I worked, there really wasn’t a lot of time for friends. As for a boyfriend. There was this one guy who I was with on and off for a few years, but we officially broke up a few months ago, and I haven’t heard from him since. In hindsight, I probably should have ended it much sooner. He wasn’t always so . . . nice to me, but I was afraid of having no one, so I stuck it out. Now that I look back, I see how much of a loser he was. I deserved much better.”

“I’m glad you see your worth—” I pause, noticing the way she continues to squirm. “Is something the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, leaning closer. “I’m trying to not make a scene, but I can feel you leaking out of me, and soon enough, it’s going to smear on the back of my dress. Then there will be a whole new reason why everybody is looking at me.”

A smirk settles across my lips, and I lean into her, taking her chin and lifting it just enough to meet her eyes. Feeling the stares of multiple people in the room, I lean just a little closer and brush my lips across her temple. “Go get yourself cleaned up, Angel. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back.”